I used to be certain.
Not just confident or comfortable, but certain in the way only a young person can be when handed a complete system and told it explains everything. I had been taught a theology that divided the world neatly into what was true and what was false. It came with answers for every question that mattered and, more importantly, it came with the assumption that those answers were final.
I didn’t question it. Why would I? It was what I had been given. It felt like truth because it felt like home.
When I listen to people argue about theology now, I often recognize something uncomfortably familiar. I hear the same tone of certainty I once had. I see people defending systems they didn’t build but have fully embraced. They assume their conclusions are objectively true and everything else is objectively wrong.
I understand that mindset because I once lived there.

Ignore the happy face it presents: Coercive state points a gun at you
What makes good science fiction? Aya Katz and I discuss ‘Podkayne’
How we live our lives can allow us to redeem dark family history
Just give us fake, happy smiles; who wants to hear your feelings?
Italy sending seismologists to jail for failing to predict big earthquake
Shallow thinking and arrogance led to ruin of once-great society
Politicians have no right dictating the menu of your kid’s Happy Meal
Galt’s Gulch? I can live without that, but I need my own ‘Akston’s diner’
I don’t regret my choices, but I do lament choices he refused to make